


Flicker

by eucatastrophe__x



Series: Light of my Life [2]
Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Biting, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eucatastrophe__x/pseuds/eucatastrophe__x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a lot of things about Lee that turned Richard on.</p><p>He had just inadvertently discovered another one.</p><p>Unfortunately for him, he did so in front of a room of a hundred journalists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flicker

Richard was in trouble.

The morning had started off so well. Lee had wasted no time in getting him back into the bed, shedding his robe, and setting a steady but intense rhythm of lovemaking (and it was _love_ making, after all) that had both of them gasping.

Then it was time for room service, pancakes with the blankets wrapped around their shoulders, more tentative discussions of the future and lazy embraces as sunlight brightened the room around them. After that came the shower, bickering gently over the temperature and the pressure before Richard dropped to his knees and pressed Lee against the wall, fingers digging into the crests of his hips as he swallowed everything he had to offer.

And Christ, it was all so _perfect._

It was only once they were clean and dry (and that had taken some time, too, because they still had three months to catch up on and Richard was going to make the most of every chance he had to re-familiarise his fingertips with every inch of Lee’s skin) that he checked the time.

“Oh, _shit_.”

Clad in yesterday’s clothes, his shirt buttoned haphazardly (and he hadn’t even bothered with the tie or the waistcoat or turning his socks the right way out), he raced back to his room, Lee’s soft smile and promise to see him in half an hour still fresh in his mind.

He couldn’t quite believe the shift that had taken place over the last twelve hours. His last interview and being sick and that first embrace from Lee felt like an eternity ago: a time when he was in a constant state of turmoil about their relationship and whether they could maintain it when he was so appalled with himself all the time.

And, at least temporarily, those feelings had dissipated – and it was really rather remarkable.

And he planned on capitalising on it as much as he could.

Last night had only been the beginning.

He would happily have spent the rest of the day in bed with Lee, but regrettably, the reason they were reunited in the first place was because of the media frenzy surrounding the first movie. In all fairness, Lee probably shouldn’t have been there at all, since his screen time was minimal at best – but it had been Peter’s suggestion that he and Orlando join them for the tail end of the interviews and hell, Richard certainly wasn’t protesting.

Of course, it had taken substantially longer than half an hour for him to get ready (though the fact that he had Sarah to organise his wardrobe for him did make his life exponentially easier at times like these), and he’d been faced with the embarrassment of sidling onto the stage late, the rest of the cast already in their assigned seats and the assembled media expectant.

For some reason, whoever had organised the panel had seen fit to put the two kings next to each other, despite the semi-antagonistic relationship that they’d both alluded to in the handful of previous interviews in which the topic came up. But he couldn’t really bring himself to mind – not when Lee gave him that smile (the standard one, the one he produced in public, that didn’t give the slightest hint of what they’d been doing a couple of hours or so earlier) and shifted in his chair, spreading his legs slightly so his knee bumped against Richard’s.

No, he was okay with all of that.

What he wasn’t okay with was Lee’s new accessory.

He hadn’t been wearing it last night, that was for sure. Richard would have noticed.

As it was, he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

(This was not a position he liked to be in when there were a hundred odd journalists watching.)

The watch was thick and silver and set off Lee’s painfully sexy forearms to perfection from its position on his wrist. He’d never seen Lee wear a watch before, nor could he understand why his reaction was so instantaneous and visceral. His heart had quite literally skipped a beat, stuttering in his chest before settling into an alarmingly rapid pace, his mouth had gone completely dry, and his (apparently no longer sated) cock was rapidly waking up.

It might have been bearable if Lee was the type of person to sit still – Richard might have been able to block him out and focus on the questions.

But the problem with Lee – especially when he was bored – was that he tended to fidget.

Normally Richard didn’t mind (even if he didn’t understand – he was perfectly capable of being motionless for hours at a time) except today, the fidgeting was involving a lot of hand and arm movements. Lee would knot his fingers together, then unknot them, fold his arms absent-mindedly, play with the cuffs on his shirt, and rub a hand over his stubble (neither of them had had the time to shave, after all) and through his hair. Every movement drew Richard’s eyes back to the watch, skin-warmed metal slipping over his wrist and silver glinting in the bright stage lights.

None of these actions helped in the slightest with the quick-to-arrive erection, which was soon throbbing almost painfully, his pants far too tight (he was almost tempted to unzip them then and there).

And all he could think of was Lee using that hand to jerk him off, to trap his arms above his head as their hips rolled together, to twist three fingers inside him, to scratch blunt fingernails down his chest…

Like he said – in trouble.

And the panel was going to last two hours.

He tried to distract himself (while still paying attention to the questions and answers, lest he end up being put on the spot) with thoughts of the now apparently imminent shift to New York. The prospect of moving in with Lee had surprised him a lot, but it did make sense at a practical level – and Christ, there wasn’t a lot that he would love more than waking up to the sight of Lee’s face and the warmth of his body every morning. It wouldn’t be too difficult a task: he didn’t have that many large possessions. Hell, he could probably fit everything he needed into a couple of suitcases, pack the rest into boxes and keep them at a storage facility, and rent his London apartment out. If he went back as soon as the junket was over, he could be on Lee’s doorstep in less than a week.

They would have to talk about it more, of course. He was fairly sure that Lee had been serious, but he wanted to be absolutely certain before doing anything ridiculous – like, for example, packing up his life and moving across the ocean to be with a man that no one knew he was in love with.

That part, at least – that he loved Lee – he didn’t doubt at all.

And if he was honest with himself, all crippling self-doubt aside, he knew that Lee felt the same.

But nothing – _nothing,_ not even fuzzy thoughts about the future of their relationship – could take his mind off Lee and his watch for more than a minute at a time. He knew his eyes were darting around like those of a caged animal, and Lee could probably feel the tension rolling off him in waves. But he appeared to be interpreting it as nerves (perhaps due to being so close together in public?) and had concluded that gentle physical contact was the best way to get Richard to relax.

All it did was rile him up more.

His knee was nudging Richard’s under the table periodically, their feet pressed together. That, Richard could tolerate – just. But about halfway through, he subtly reached over (his face still wearing a politely interested expression as Martin spoke) to brush his fingertips over Richard’s thigh.

Richard practically jumped out of his seat.

Thank Christ all the cameras were focused elsewhere.

That was it: the second this was over, he was going to make a run to the nearest bathroom and take care of matters. (Christ: what had Lee done to him that made jerking off in a public bathroom an acceptable course of conduct?)

The fact that Amanda knew he had been sick the previous day was a small mercy: if anyone asked, at least she would be able to offer up a plausible excuse for him. Anything to avoid him having to tell the truth: the man I’m secretly in love with is wearing a watch that inexplicably turns me on so much I can’t breathe.

By the time the panel finally ended, he was a mess. He’d given up on thoughts of moving and had had to resort to biting on his tongue to distract himself from the pressure in his trousers, the taste of blood filling his mouth sporadically. He was very aware that his skin was prickling with sweat (which would no doubt show up on camera) – though the all-consuming arousal meant that he was really struggling to care. At least he’d been able to answer questions coherently, and he liked to think he was maintaining a largely neutral facial expression despite his internal turmoil. Nevertheless, this was not going to be an interview that he would ever want to watch again.

But it was over.

Oh, thank Christ, it was over.

Lee leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms out wide before running his fingers through his hair again, and turned to him with a bright smile.

And that was the tipping point.

“Excuse me,” he gasped, jumping out of his chair and fleeing without looking back, holding his breath until he was safe and alone and the bathroom door had slammed shut behind him.

Richard’s sudden departure was met with a raft of confused faces amongst the rest of the cast.

“Jesus, does anyone know what that was about?”

“Someone should check on him.”

Oh, Lee thought, it was almost too simple.

“I’ll go,” he offered easily, “see where he’s got to, if he’s okay.”

And no one would think anything of it. After all, what reason had either he or Richard ever given them to suspect?

There were bathrooms nearby – one of the staff had pointed them out on arrival. But Lee knew better than to look in the men’s. No, Richard would be using the handicapped stall, wanting to suffer through whatever was wrong away from prying eyes.

But – no, thank God, he wasn’t coherent enough to lock the door.

When Lee opened it, Richard was standing in front of the mirror, one hand braced on the counter as the other fumbled with his belt buckle. At the sound, he’d just about jumped out of his skin, shifting guiltily and trying to shield his groin from view. His face was flushed and glossier with perspiration than it had been a minute ago, his movements slightly shaky, and Lee was officially worried.

“Christ, don’t do that.”

“You just… You disappeared so quickly. Everyone’s worried about you. What’s going on?”

He paused, an unwelcome thought slipping into his mind. Maybe he had pushed Richard too far. The gentle under-the-table touches might not have been the best idea, even if they were completely hidden from view – it might have been too much, too soon, especially when they had always been so careful to keep any contact they had on set strictly platonic and not physical in the slightest. “Is it… our conversation? From this morning?”

“No,” Richard responded vehemently, “absolutely not.”

Well, that was a relief. Lee closed the door, sliding the bolt home before turning back to him.

“Then what? Is it something to do with me?”

“Um,” he said carefully, “sort of.”

“Have I done something?”

“Not intentionally.”

Lee crossed the stall in two steps, stopping behind Richard and eyeing his reflection. “I’ve got to say, I’ve always been miserable at guessing games, so… put me out of my misery? Tell me how I can help.” He smoothed his palms over Richard’s biceps, a gesture that usually calmed him – so he was surprised by the distressed whimper he got in response.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, continuing his hands’ movements at a steady pace, “I’ve got you. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Then he noticed that Richard wasn’t meeting his gaze anymore. His eyes were firmly fixed on something in the mirror.

It wasn’t his hand, it was…

“Oh, it’s new,” he said, belatedly realising that he hadn’t shown it to Richard the night before. “My parents got it for me – late birthday present. Nice, huh?”

“Unh,” Richard responded, gaze still tracking the watch’s movements.

“Rich?”

His hands stilled, and suddenly Richard was looking at him again, still flushed and now almost – embarrassed?

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Richard didn’t respond verbally, instead taking his hand fiercely and pressing it to – _oh._

“ _That_ is what’s wrong,” he ground out through gritted teeth, gasping as Lee increased the pressure teasingly, unable to quite believe it. Richard was this embarrassed because he had an erection?

Lee didn’t mind.

He had no objections to taking care of said erection and had done so on many an occasion. Richard was very much aware of that fact.

Which meant that this time, something was different.

And only then did it click into place.

“The watch,” he breathed, watching Richard’s blush shift from pale pink to almost purple as he squeezed his eyes shut. “The watch turns you on.”

“Yes,” Richard gasped, “I don’t know why or how but Christ, Lee, I sat there for two hours looking at it on your wrist and I just _can’t_ –”

Holy shit.

All of Lee’s blood flooded south and his jeans were tightening at an alarmingly rapid rate.

The _watch._

He had noticed Richard’s eyes flickering around during the panel – he hadn’t made eye contact with Lee, but now that he thought about it, it wasn’t his glass of water or the sign in front of him bearing his name or the journalists in the front row that kept catching his interest.

It was Lee’s hands. Well, one hand in particular. The one wearing the watch.

And this was what it had done to him.

Lee was frozen in place, hands still on Richard’s biceps and unable to take his eyes off his reflection. Richard was leaning back against him, head against his shoulder and the curve of his throat exposed, meeting his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes coloured with arousal and just a hint of desperation.

“Well,” Lee breathed, one hand snaking around to pop the first few buttons on Richard’s shirt (thank God there was no tie today, because he wasn’t sure he would have had the patience or the dexterity to get it off), “maybe we should take care of that.”

“We’ll get caught,” Richard protested half-heartedly, though Lee could feel his heart rate quicken – at what Lee was offering or the prospect of someone discovering them, he wasn’t sure.

“You underestimate me,” he murmured, his lips to Richard’s ear (and he was unable to resist grazing the lobe teasingly with his teeth before continuing), “I think I could make you come before anyone even starts looking for you.” He pressed the flat of his hand against Richard’s zipper again, smirking at the way his breath hitched in response before reaching for his belt buckle. “Besides, you know I love me a challenge.”

“Lee –”

He pulled his hand away at the anxious way Richard had breathed his name, squeezing his shoulder and suddenly realising that he might have gone too far. “Hey – I’m sorry, Rich.”

“No, I –”

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

Richard’s response came out in a desperate gasp and was accompanied by another slow flush, starting high on his cheeks and spreading downwards.

“If you stop, I think I might die.”

Lee muffled his triumphant laugh in the curve of Richard’s neck, reaching one-handed for the belt buckle again. It took a few seconds (the way that Richard was slowly and insistently grinding against him wasn’t helping his concentration) but then it was done and he was popping the button and dragging the zipper downwards and –

“The door,” Richard gasped, eyes widening with concern for a split second.

“Already locked,” Lee grinned, “now, if I just… hmm, there we go.”

He slid a hand down the front of Richard’s boxers and wrapped a confident hand around his cock, freeing it from its cotton confines and relishing the way that his whole body jerked forward at the first touch.

“Easy, baby,” Lee murmured, accent honeyed and thick with arousal, “I’ve got you.”

The first few strokes were tentative and gentle and teasing. Lee marvelled at the heat and hardness in his hand – god, it must have been uncomfortable to have spent the last two hours sitting there with this much going on downstairs. No wonder Richard was such a wreck.

“More,” he whimpered, “fuck, harder, Lee, please.”

Who was he to deny Richard what he clearly needed?

They didn’t have much time, after all.

But when he increased the pressure and speed of his hand, Richard moaned.

Loudly.

“You’re going to have to keep quiet if you want me to keep going,” Lee whispered against his neck, “can you do that?”

Richard nodded frantically, but seconds later Lee was touching him _just like that,_ just how he knew Richard liked it, and he couldn’t help it. A shaky breath caught in his throat, but Lee was anticipating the noise and clapped a hand over his mouth, swallowing the moan with his palm.

“Quiet,” he repeated, eyes dark and hooded, and Richard just nodded again, his breaths escaping as warm, damp puffs of air against Lee’s hand.

There was something so illicit about it all: they’d only ever been intimate in any way in trailers and hotel rooms – never in a public bathroom. And it was clearly having an effect on Richard – god, they’d barely just begun and he already looked wrecked and desperately close to the edge.

Then again, it could have just been the watch.

Richard’s eyes were glued to it, watching the steady slide of Lee’s hand, the head of his cock disappearing into his fist and then reappearing, precome blossoming at the tip. And Lee’s eyes were glued to _Richard_ as he panted against his newly exposed neck, hips grinding slowly and lips brushing skin.

But _brushing_ was all they were doing.

And that was causing some problems for Lee, because all he wanted to do was give in and mark Richard as his, suck jewelled bruises down the length of his neck and along his shoulder and savour the gasps and groans he was sure he would get in response.

“ _More,_ ” Richard repeated, his voice muffled but still tinged with urgency, and Lee couldn’t resist anymore. Tugging his shirt down to expose his shoulder and collarbone, he licked a linear path along the skin before picking a spot and sucking gently – gently enough not to leave any mark if Richard objected.

His hand did a wholly inadequate job of silencing the needy moan he got in response.

Damn it, he had been right all along: Richard _did_ love it.

The realisation sent another throb through his cock and he sucked harder on that same spot before introducing his teeth, nipping softly – and then not so softly. (But still nowhere near as hard as he would have liked. That could wait for another day.)

“Christ, that feels good,” Richard mumbled, arching his back involuntarily, “ _please,_ Lee.”

A single coherent thought crossed his mind: why in god’s name had he never let Lee do this before?

The arrhythmic sting of his teeth and hot slide of his tongue were intoxicating, and Richard could feel heat pooling in his groin and shit, he was going to be done in just a few seconds if Lee kept this up.

“Mmph,” he managed, hoping – no, knowing – that Lee would understand the sound.

And, bless him, he did.

“Just like that,” he coaxed, hot and gasping breaths in Richard’s ear as he kept his pace steady, chin resting on his shoulder and nose pressed to his cheekbone, “come for me, Rich.”

Fuck, the things that accent did to him.

Bucking helplessly into Lee’s hand and then back against his pelvis, Richard wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, desperately scrabbling for something to hold onto. He eventually latched onto the collar of Lee’s jacket, knuckles white around the fabric as he keened, chasing his orgasm, and god, it was so close, so close – 

All it took was a few more twists of Lee’s hand and another sharp bite to his shoulder, Lee’s pants burning against his oversensitive skin, and he was done.

A final deep groan rumbled up from his chest as he came, hips jerking erratically as Lee stroked him through, only slowing his movements when Richard sagged, boneless and sated, against him.

“Holy fuck.”

“No kidding,” Lee breathed, continuing to press kisses to Richard’s neck as he tucked him back in and did up his trousers, before reaching forward to turn the tap on and wash away the evidence. When his mouth left the skin, Richard tugged his shirt back down, inspecting the trail of purpling bruises Lee had left behind. The way he looked at them contemplatively, running his index finger over each in turn, had Lee desperately wanting to get back to work and leave them on every inch of Richard’s body.

“Lee, um…”

Richard’s expression made Lee’s stomach twist in guilt. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Rich. I shouldn’t have. I – they should be gone in a couple of days,” he babbled, “I was trying not to be too rough, and I – sorry.”

“Lee?” Richard cut him off, a small and embarrassed grin on his face. “Stop apologising.”

He shut his mouth obediently.

“I, um… it turns out I really fucking like it.”

No kidding, Lee thought, recalling the primitive response the sucks and bites had received but managing not to verbalise the sarcastic thought. “Okay…”

“So… feel free to leave more whenever you want.”

“Okay,” he repeated, trying not to let the emotions coursing through him show on his face. This was momentous. Richard had always been so terrified of leaving behind evidence of their relationship – and now this?

“So long as they won’t be visible when I’ve got a shirt on,” he clarified (not that Lee minded the limitation in the slightest – there were a lot of spots on his body that were still available, after all), “you’ve got free rein. Oh, and Lee? Don’t worry about being gentle next time.”

Jesus Christ.

“You’re going to kill me,” he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Richard’s shoulder, “I swear.”

“I could say the same to you,” he responded, and Lee didn’t even have to look to know that he was smirking, “you and your goddamn watch.”

“It’s not my fault you find my arms so attractive,” Lee mumbled back, pressing a row of kisses up the back of his neck before resting his chin on his shoulder again. “We should probably get going before everyone comes looking for us.” 

“I suppose we should,” Richard sighed, fixing his buttons in the mirror before turning to Lee, facing him for the first time. “But what about you?” he asked, eyeing him with interest and raising one eyebrow. “Do I need to take care of anything before you leave?”

Lee was struck with an image of Richard on his knees on the bathroom floor, Lee leaning back and bracing himself on the sink, Richard wrapping that talented mouth around his cock, Lee fucking into it and holding his head in place until he came down Richard’s throat.

But as tempting as that thought was…

“Oh, I’m sure you can make it up to me later,” Lee smirked, unable to help himself from squeezing Richard’s arse suggestively on his way out. “Wait a couple of minutes and I’ll see you out there, okay?”

“Okay,” he echoed, “but wait, Lee –”

“Hmm?”

He turned back, only to have Richard reach for him and pull him into a kiss – their first since he’d left Lee’s room that morning (which was not all that long ago when they hadn’t seen each other for three months but suddenly felt like an eternity). Lee groaned in satisfaction as their tongues found their familiar rhythm, his hands twisting in Richard’s hair until he eventually pulled away, nose pink and lips swollen.

“You are amazing,” Richard told him earnestly, “and I love you.”

“Right back at ya,” Lee responded, still dazed from Richard’s skilled mouth and the anticipatory hardness in his pants. The evening couldn’t come fast enough.

But until then, they would keep up their public charade.

Lee’s plan to sidle back to the others didn’t quite work out – as soon as he had closed the bathroom door, he was waylaid by an anxious Amanda.

Fortunately, she was more focused on Richard than the fact that Lee had been with him in a locked bathroom stall.

“Is he okay? Was he sick again?”

“No, he – wait, what do you mean? Sick? Again?” he repeated, worry flaring back up inside him. “Has he not been well?”

Oh, it would be _so_ like Richard to suffer in silence, not wanting to inconvenience anyone, and he wished Amanda had picked up on it earlier – late night phone calls never gave him the full picture of what was going on with Richard, and he _definitely_ wouldn’t mention being unwell unless Lee was physically there and able to prise the fact out of him in person.

“He threw up after the interviews finished yesterday, and – well, Lee, he hasn’t been looking the best for the last week or so. I thought he seemed better today, though,” she added, her tone curious. She was obviously trying to work out what had changed in the last twelve or so hours. “He must have taken my advice.”

“What was that?” Lee doubted it was a recommendation of frantic gay sex, room service in bed and sucking Lee off in the shower – but if that was what it took to make Richard feel better, he wasn’t going to complain in the slightest.

“A hot shower and an early night,” she grinned, “usually works for me.”

Well, they’d ticked the former off, at least. The latter wasn’t likely to be achievable until they had a whole day in which to exhaust each other.

(Then again, if Richard was serious about moving to New York, there might just be a whole lot of those days in the very near future. Lee couldn’t wait.)

“Listen, I have to go, but word is that you’re all going out for lunch now. Just – keep an eye on him for me, will you?”

“Of course,” he responded, keeping his tone light and friendly, “we all will.”

He loitered in the hall for another minute before Richard opened the door, cautiously peeking out in case the whole cast was standing there waiting to ambush him.

But it was just Lee.

“Thought you were going back to the others?”

“I have to talk to you about something first.”

Richard’s face fell, and Lee realised he could have been a lot more specific.

“Amanda just told me you’ve been sick,” he clarified softly, and Richard looked away guiltily – like Amanda didn’t know the half of it. Lee reached out, pulling him closer, hands resting on his shoulders. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“It’s like I said – I haven’t been sleeping well without you.”

“Since when?”

“Since three months ago,” he admitted in a whisper, and Lee’s grip on his shoulders tightened. “You should have told me.”

“What would you have done? Taken time off work, flown over, booked a hotel room nearby so we could sneak around together after dark?”

The bitterness in his tone surprised Lee, and he suddenly realised how frustrated Richard was with himself for trying to hide their relationship for so long – from the rest of the world as much as himself. He tilted Richard’s chin up, forcing eye contact, fierce honesty in his gaze. “I would have done anything you wanted me to. You know that.”

Richard’s shoulders sagged, and he reached for Lee’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m being so – so ridiculous about all of this. And – you’re just so _patient._ Thank you.”

“Trust me, you’re worth waiting for,” Lee grinned, enjoying the slight blush he got in response.

“How about this,” Richard bargained, “I promise I won’t keep anything from you again.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lee said, tugging him closer still and wrapping his arms around his waist, letting Richard relax against him and revelling in the contact. God, the man was intoxicating – even something as simple as a hug left him reeling.

“What about you?” Richard asked, and Lee opened his eyes unwillingly, dragging himself back to the present.

“What do you mean?”

“What are you going to promise me in return?”

Lee only had to think about it for a second. “Can I promise you two things?”

“Mm,” Richard mumbled against his chest.

“I promise to do everything in my power to make sure we never have to spend this long apart again – as long as that’s what you want – and to keep you happy and healthy.”

“It is what I want,” Richard replied – Lee couldn’t see his face, but he could tell that he was smiling. He rubbed the small of Richard’s back – innocuous, comforting, and completely at odds with the words he was about to whisper into his ear.

“And I promise that when we get back to the hotel tonight, I’m going to spend at least an hour undressing you and getting you all hot and flustered and desperate, and I’m going to suck your cock until you can barely breathe, and then I’m going to fuck you for _hours._ ”

Richard choked.

Lee just grinned in satisfaction, until –

“You know,” Richard began (once he’d got his breath back), also in a neutral, conversational tone, hands sliding into the back pockets of Lee’s jeans as he spoke and squeezing, “it amazes me that you only made me come five minutes ago, but I’m already dying for you to push me up against that wall and –”

“God, Rich, stop, you’re killing me,” he gasped, eyes closed and cock swelling painfully at the image Richard had planted in his mind, trying to resist the desperate urge to do exactly what he’d asked.

Richard looked incredibly pleased with himself.

Lee was incredibly turned on.

“Perhaps you could spend the rest of the day considering how you would like me to fuck you tonight, and I will take those requests into consideration,” he breathed, “if you ask nicely.”

“Oh, I can ask _very_ nicely.”

Lee swallowed hard.

It was going to be a _long_ afternoon.

“Richard, are you – oh.”

To Richard’s credit, he didn’t lurch out of the embrace at the sound of Martin’s worried voice – instead turning to face him slowly, comfortably, like he hadn’t been doing anything that needed hiding. That movement (or lack thereof) alone made Lee’s heart swell with happiness. The last time they’d seen each other, Richard would have recoiled if Lee had tried to touch him at all in a public place. Something had very definitely shifted in the last 24 hours, and it thrilled him.

“I haven’t been feeling well… Lee was just looking after me.”

Martin’s gaze flickered between them, trying to assess whether Richard was telling the truth before appearing to reach the conclusion that he was (after all, they’d lived in each other’s pockets for so long that _surely_ if something was going on, it would have been sniffed out long ago).

“So you’re better now?”

A nod, and a casual step away from Lee. “Much, thanks.”

“Good, because we’re all going for a long, boozy lunch, and your attendance is required. I suppose the elf can come too,” he added with a long-suffering sigh, “so long as he doesn’t cause too much trouble.”

Richard barked out a laugh and the pair followed Martin back down the hall. Lee twisted a surreptitious arm around Richard’s waist and whispered in his ear, unable to help the suggestive leer that crept into his tone.

“I’ll _look after you_ whenever you want.”

“Just as long as you wear the watch,” Richard countered, eyes dark and one corner of his mouth turning up in a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, trust me, now that I know what it does to you I’m never taking it off again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here is part 2! Better late than never, right...?
> 
> I am ashamed to admit that this idea arrived when I was a) at work and b) in a meeting with a client who happened to be good looking and wearing a really nice watch. Yep. I am a baaaaad person.
> 
> Just in case it's not clear, this is set a few hours after Only After Dark - the others will be more spaced out time-wise.
> 
> (I swear not all of these are not going to be full of smut - at least, that's the plan at this stage... But, well, part 3 and 4 are already partly written and *cough* so I hope no one minds...)
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
